Thou dost rule the swelling of the sea.
When its waves rise, Thou dost still them.
Last week, I walked by the ocean’s edge, listening to the rhythm of the surf, watching the rise and fall of the moving water. My daughter was having her first college experience, but I admit to skipping some of the parent orientation to take a walk on the beach. (The sessions are all on-line, so no worries!)
The last few months have been so full–senior activities, graduation, visitors, college orientation. All good things.
In some ways, my emotions have been a bit like the sea. Up and down. In and out. Yet I am finding a gentle acquiescence in my spirit.
It’s time for my little birds to try out their strong, new wings. To leave for work every day at 7am, and get home at 6. To buy that first car. To toss that mortarboard high in the air in celebration of accomplishment, and in anticipation of the next bend in the road.
The verses I memorized years ago from Colossians have become my heart’s cry:
I ask that they may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. May they be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified them to share in the inheritance of the saints in light (Colossians 1:9-11).
I have a strong sense that my work is not diminished, it is simply shifting. Perhaps it is less a work of my hands, but more a work on my knees.